


Whitestone Days and Marquesian Knights

by KissJupiter



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chroma Conclave Arc, Cuddling & Snuggling, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance, This boy needs a happy ending, Whitestone (Critical Role), playing with the timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-27 13:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16219613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissJupiter/pseuds/KissJupiter
Summary: Shaun Gilmore is a man of many talents; incredible sorcerer, impeccable business man, and alleged number one bachelor in all of Tal'Dorei...but that was before four chromatic dragons decided to decimate the Cloud Top District. Now he's stuck in Whitestone, working tirelessly to defend it. His heart still broken, Gilmore pushes himself everyday with a desire to protect a city from Dragon attacks until one day, a knock on his door let's him think about himself. Jarrett Howarth is a charming man,and maybe he is the man who can soothe Gilmore's soul.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Critical Role story and I thought who else to write about other than our favorite seller of magical goods and wears. This coupling just sort of popped into my head after watching Passed through Fire where Vox Machina walk into the castle after resurrecting Percy and Jarrett and Gilmore are together. Not to mention Vax asking Jarrett to "keep an eye" on him. Maybe it's just me reading between some lines, but here I am? Any I hope you all enjoy.

With an arcane wave of your hand and an almost casual wink towards the the half-elf ranger thanking you for your help, you watch as the party called Vox Machina vanishes within your teleportation circle. It's exhausting, the sweat pouring down your forehead just as the glow of the sigil begins to die down. You slump down into a nearby chair, luckily landing enough on the seat to keep from landing directly on the carpet. Your vision begins to blur, black spots peppering around the room. Your breathing is haggard, even to your own ears, and you're straining to bring focus back into your eyes. You clasp your hands together, hunching over and resting your head in your clenched fingers. 

You hadn't expected casting magic to be so painful, the tightness in your muscles and the way your throat felt so dry despite the fact that you had just been sharing a cup of tea with your friends. You wished Allura was here, for just a moment, before finally stealing yourself. It takes a bit of time but you were able to keep the barrier up, though you're sure it fluctuated. 

How in all of Exandria did you end up here Shaun? Somehow after leaving home, creating a successful business and being the object of the affections of a beautiful man you somehow managed to end up in this terribly dreary, entirely unfabulous place, lonely and with an entire city's well-being on your well sculpted yet very tired shoulders. It was almost too much to handle, if you weren't you. 

You really needed to look on the bright side if you were being entirely honest, but it was hard when you have to see Vax'ildan's roguish good looks smirking at you whenever he returns from killing dragons while you stay in this house that isn't your home alone concentrating on this enormous magical barrier. Your mother would chastise you if she were here. 'Shaun, stop being such a dreary lump, it isn't like you my son' that is what she would say, most definitely grabbing your face in her calloused hands. 

You miss your parents dearly, though you haven't seen them quite a long while, but until about a month ago you made sure to send them a letter and some gold every few weeks, unfortunately money has been a bit tight now that the entirety of your dreams have been crushed by a conclave of fuck-all dragons. You're partially really happy that Vox Machina will be checking on them for you; regardless how painful it is for you to cast spells at the moment, you'll do whatever it takes to defeat this threat, even if you have to suffer a bit. You absentmindedly grab at your tea cup, sipping into the cup, realizing only after a few seconds that you somehow managed to drink half of the cream. You don't even bother to cough it up, downing the rest of the heavy liquid without much care. 

The black dragon has already fallen, and three Vestiges have already been found. Hopefully there won't be too much more time before you'll be able to visit home, and then get on with your life, whatever will be left with it after all of this is over and done with. Maybe you can reopen your shop, you're sure whatever is left of the council would reimburse you for damages and lost wages, sure, it's not like the entirety of Emon isn't in ruins right now. You're sure that giant red salamander is using one of your enchanted spears as a back scratcher at this very moment. 

You take a deep breath, centering yourself once again before pushing yourself from your chair, popping your sore spine and stretching your arms over your head before smacking your cheeks a little bit to put a bit of pep in your step. You head to the washroom to splash some cool water on your face. Oh dear, it would appear a bit of your makeup had smudged under your eyes. Had you been crying? You hadn't noticed.

That just wouldn't do.

"Now now Shaun, this is not the time to be feeling sorry for yourself. This is not how the owner of Gilmore's Glorious Goods acts in the face of danger. Come on, pull yourself together."

You don't even bother attempting to use prestidigitation to clean yourself up instead taking a damp cloth and fix your eyes, pulling your hair down from the messy pony tail and letting it fall over your face in messy black curls. It was always such an unruly thing, you remember your mother had to fight with it every morning when you were younger to control this mane of thick glossy locks. Always wanting to fall over your face in heavy sweeps on ebony. It didn't matter, you enjoyed it long. 

You pull off the robe you'd been wearing before when your friends had come to ask for you aid, exposing your bronzed skin. An angry jagged scar across your abdomen stares back at you, and you're feeling an intense rage bubbling in your gut. These gods damned beasts, they've taken so much from people. You are not angry because you have this scar, you are angry because you are left here, alive, when everyone in Emon is stuck either dead or dying. You wish you weren't so weak, you wish you could have done more, saved more. You push on the still healing scar with your fingers, wincing a bit at the slight sting against your flesh at the pressure, but it doesn't matter, you want to mess with it, it reminds you of why you're here. 

Your silk pajama's hang low on your hips, and you're able to get a full view of the entire wound. Raised pink flesh travels upward from your left hip all the way up passed your naval and near your right nipple, the scar thickening near the center where the dragons claw had pushed its way into your body and torn into your organs. You remember the pain, and how it didn't matter at the moment, all that mattered was getting the children out and finding your friends. You were so glad when they had found you, when you woke up to find yourself face to face with the sparkling dark eyes of Vax'ildan, and the rest of Vox Machina. 

After a few more moments of staring at your marred skin before yanking your pants back up onto your hips, not bothering to put the robe back on, you head to the smallish kitchen and begin to make a fresh pot of tea. You stare at the kettle, wondering whether or not to send a message to Alurra about the difficulties of using other spells when concentrating on the illusory shield. Perhaps there could be some sort of buff or support spell that could be cast on either of you before your shift begins, maybe it would make the concentration a little less noticeable.Or perhaps we could find a third mage somewhere, Pike is still in town, though she is a woman of faith, not of the arcane. There isn't much of a correlation-

A knock at your door shocks you out of your thoughts, and you jump away from the boiling kettle.

Ah, it's probably Sherri, she visits you quite often to make sure you eat and sleep. Though she herself has been a little worse for wear, you noticed a couple days ago her eyes had become sunken from lack of sleep, and demanded she take a few days of rest. She obviously is not listening to your advise, you're going to have to chastise her about taking better care of herself. She is so young, she shouldn't be looking after her employer. 

"Come in!" You call, taking a cloth and removing the kettle from the flame of the stove. You only have a few seconds to consider grabbing your robe before the door creaks open, and a surprisingly deep voice sounds throughout the living area.

"Um, excuse me, Sir Gilmore?" The voice is accented and a bit nervous sounding, but still holding an air of confidence underneath. You round the corner of the kitchen into the front room where standing among the furniture is a younger man, younger than you, his short black cropped hair falls slightly down his face into a curl. His handsome smile when he sees you approach reveals a row of straight white teeth against copper colored skin. He's dressed in pale guard colors, a deep purple scarf wrapped around his neck, a little stubble just peaking out on his chin.

"Oh, ah," he stammers a moment eyes going a bit wide when he sees you, but he composes himself rather quickly, "hello, my name is Jarrett Howarth and one of the captain's of the Pale Guard in Whitestone, it is well, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Sir Gilmore." He shuffles on his feet for a moment, and you're suddenly very aware of what you must look like. Wild curly hair and massive scar.

"The...pleasures all mine." You speak slowly, crushing your arms to your chest in the hopes of seeming a bit more modest. "Just a moment." You quickly retrieve your robe, slipping it on and pulling your hair into a quick pony tail. Still messy, but better.

He's still standing there when you come back, still with a slight smile and a friendly demeanor that really puts you at ease, especially not that you have made yourself somewhat decent. 

"Please, have a seat Captain Howarth, I just made tea would you like some?" you begin heading back to the kitchen to pour two more cups of steaming hot tea. He sits at one of the long couches lounging slightly against one of the many pillows you've placed all around the home. You come back with the two cups, handing one of them off to the guardsman before taking a seat opposite of him, crossing your legs.

"Please, call me Jarrett, I believe it's much easier to become friends if we are on a first name basis, " He says, grasping the cup within his one hand, a smile still plastered on his face, "I am here on a bit of business that I must admit, it a bit unorthodox Sir Gilmore,"

"Call me Shaun, Jarrett," you interject, "let us both be friendly with each other then."

"Shaun then," he corrects, the smile on his face growing even wider, "are you always this shy Shaun, or did I catch you at a bad time?" He gestures to the robe and you can feel yourself flush. It wasn't often that someone new came around and him seeing you in such a well, frankly sloppy state isn't something you like to think about.

"Well I think it's only natural to want to look presentable, especially in new company."

"I think you looked plenty presentable." He smirks, eyes earnest, but he then clears his throat, "I am here for a reason that I am quite honestly not sure of but I feel like I have every reason to ask. Especially after seeing you just now."

You try to ignore the burning in your cheeks, you really can't tell what he's thinking, particularly with mischievous smirk on his face. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask, readjusting your robe, "With Whitestone? The barrier is holding isn't it?"

He shakes his head,

"Nothing is wrong with the city," he leans in a bit, taking a sip of his tea, "nor your barrier, a blessing that it is."

You cock your head at the man before you, confusion clouding your mind. He wasn't making much sense, but you get the sense that he's tip toeing around what he really wants to say. It doesn't really matter though, you're grateful for the distraction from constantly focusing on things you can't really change. 

"Then what seems to be the problem?" 

"Do you always expect a problem when someone comes to visit you?" He grins, setting his cup on the side table. 

"Well in trying times such as these, perhaps thinking there being a problem isn't as improbable as one might imagine. It just seems that lately the bad has outweighed the good."

The way you're speaking is so much more bitter than you mean it to be, but it feels good to say something negative to someone. Jarrett eyes you up and down, a look of understanding in his dark eyes, jet black pools gazing into your own.

"It must be quite the arduous task, keeping this city and all of it's inhabitants safe," he muses, "especially when you have already lost so much." 

You draw back into your chair, taking a long drink of your tea, the hot liquid sliding down your parched throat. His words hit close to your heart, and you hate it, but at the same time it's comforting to have someone else voice these feelings. You take a moment to compose yourself, and it seems that the gods have comedic timing because just as you're about to open your mouth to speak the band holding your hair up snaps, flying off to who knows where. You sit there, mouth half open, strands of black falling all over the place, in stunned silence for a few seconds before laughter fills the room...and it takes a second before you realize it's your own.

"Lost so much! I cannot even keep a tie in my hair!" You chuckle, standing from your seat, gathering the cups left by Vox Machina and taking them to the kitchen to be washed, "we have all lost so much Jarrett. I am not special. Now please, tell me what it is you want from me."

He stands as well, assisting with clean up.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to offend you."

You shake your head, ebony hair shaking bouncing over your shoulders, tickling the back of your neck. He places a few cups on the counter, intercepting your gaze with his own. 

"No offense taken, I apologize for raising my voice, the world seems to be on fire around us and I'm scrambling to maintain some semblance of normalcy. I am certainly not the only one going through a rough time right now. I'm sure you yourself have lost very much after these dragons attacked."

He ponders for a moment.

"No apology necessary really, I am not someone who worries about things such as these. My life is constantly changing, with more ups and downs than one can count. I am but a man who wants to enjoy life when he can. Now, Shaun, you are man with many many things on your plate, I took notice of this problem within you and simply wanted to alleviate some of this hardship."

You glance up into his face, searching for any sort of ill intent or possible reason he would be interested in such a thing, but all you can see is a handsome smile and a slight scar just above his left eye.

"How would you do that, if I would be so bold as to ask?" You face him further, placing your hand against the counter to lean on. He takes a few steps forward, his eyes intense but his smile still present on his face.

"Well, maybe let's start with dinner?"


	2. Magic and Melancholy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilmore has his first dinner/interaction with Jarrett, and in it they share more intimate moments than he can understand. The comfort Jarrett offers is new and dangerous, and Shaun isn't sure if this is a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so to be clear I am messing with the timeline a bit during this story, especially with how long it takes for Vox Machina to defeat the Chroma Conclave and how much time they spend in Whitestone, because Gods Darn it I have my own drama that I want in this story and it's going to happen. Also I'm sort of making Gilmore a bit younger but still older than Jarrett.

You are putting on shimmering eye makeup when Sherri leaves for the night, her face contorted in an overly happy grin. She has been wanting you to go out since this whole mess started, to get some fresh air, some "real" food in you and not just tea. Now this may be hard to believe, but it's not everyday that someone asks you to dinner. You're set down the glittering brush and give yourself the once over.

Your eyes now have a dark smoky look to them, alluring and mysterious, a little wing about halfway up the eyelids. You're wearing one of the only robes you own, deep blue and silk, leaving just enough of the chest open for a gold necklace to rest just passed your clavicle.Rings adorned your fingers, and you resisted putting in any hair adornments. Your goatee was styled and braided, jeweled beads resting in the facial hair. You were looking better than you have in weeks, and you wanted everyone to know it.

Still, nervousness filled your gut as you stood from your stool beside the mirror. You had no idea what you were doing. How he managed to convince you to go along with this, you don't really know. It was two days ago when Jarrett requested the two of you share a meal together, and you still had no clue why you agreed. You didn't know what his intentions were, you didn't even know why he approached you in the first place, and it was worrisome. He was a very attractive man, you hadn't skipped over that at all, but you had no clue why he would ask you to dinner out of the blue. Hell, he even asked after you'd had a small nervous breakdown in front of him. Perhaps you were crazy for doing this, going out with some guardsman that showed up on your doorstep to ask you to dinner and see you half-naked.

Hm, perhaps he was the crazy one.

You were just thankful for something to do tonight, after giving Allura the reigns on our shield the days spent not focusing your magic usually were just spent sleeping or feeling sorry for yourself. This is a good thing, going out.

You slip into your shoes at the front door, blowing out candle sat by the door and leaving your home in darkness before heading to the training grounds for the Pale Guard. The frigid night air clings to your skin as you walked down the lantern lit streets of Whitestone. The denizen's had just begun to spill into the streets to enjoy a drink after work, and you waved at a few you recognized as you made your way. Jarrett had asked that you meet him there after dark, and it's not long before you're standing in front of the long rolling field filled with training dummies and hay bales for archers and melee fighters. Small wooden shacks litter the field as well, containing weapons of all kinds.

You spot Jarrett talking to one of the many soldiers being trained in combat in case of dragon attack. He seems to be in a somewhat heated discussion, if the way he's waving a spear in the mans face is any indication.

"I am not someone who uses weapon such as this Perter, it is not my fault that Kash went off to go run an errand for Vox Machina. Just practice what he's already taught you and maybe he'll be impressed with you when he gets back."

You can tell Jarrett is losing his patience, based on the way his accent is getting thicker and more slurred with every word. You watch as the man rips the spear from Jarrett's hand and storms off, shoving passed you and heading down the path, you can just barely hear him grumbling about how Kash is never impressed with anything.

"How can men who have no spine be capable of being so annoying?" Jarrett mutters to himself in a language you recognize as Marquesian. 

"Because those who are cowards have the most to say." You laugh as you approach, the Marquesian tumbling from you lips felt like greeting an old friend. You had not spoken the language of your birthplace is many years, and it felt good to let those familiar consonants and vowels between your tongue and teeth. Jarrett turns to you, chipper smile forming on his lips when he lays eyes on you.

"Ah Shaun," He pulls you in for a hug you're not quite sure whether reciprocate, "It is good to see you." His breath tickles your ear as his arms envelope your form. Now that the two of you were pressed together you can feel the sturdiness of his body against your own and how muscular this man was compared to your more lean form. You weren't a bean sprout by any means, you just weren't as well sculpted a Jarrett seemed to be.

After a few seconds he pulls away from you, still grasping onto your arms with his large hands, and he is very obviously taking in your appearance. Jarrett looks you up and down, an appreciative stare meeting your own.

"You clean up quite well Shaun," He rubs his thumbs in circles around the fabric of your sleeves, "the sparkles in your eyes are like the shining jewels in the night sky."

You chuckle nervously at his words, not expecting such things to be said at only the second time interacting. You try your best to read his gaze, trying to determine if he was merely playing with you, but the only emotions you are getting our completely genuine. You place a hand on his chest, pushing out of his grasp with a teasing wink. You turn your back to him, the warmth in you face radiating down your neck. You still didn't know what this was, but you were enjoying the game at least. 

"Flattery like that will get you everywhere," you smirk, "but dinner will get you there faster." 

You send him suggestive glance over your shoulder as he gawks at you before his signature smile curls back onto that handsome face of his. He takes a few more steps closer to you, eyes half lidded and playful. It takes everything in you not to shy away from his stare, meeting his gaze with a half grin of your own. He leans into your ear once more, chin almost resting onto your shoulder. One of his hands holds on you arm, the other reaching for your hand. You ignore your pounding heart as he pulls your hand to meet his lips. You don't pull away even though your heart is racing and your mind is going a million miles a minute. 

"It is unfortunate for you that I like to take things slow." He all but growls into your ear and sudden shiver wracks your spine but he still holds you against him. You can see your breath coming out in puffs of steam in the air, and it's only after he releases your hand that you pull away, moving a distance away from him so that your obvious confusion and desire weren't as obvious. 

"Jarrett you are quite the tease aren't you?"

You're so lucky it's so convincing, the part you play around every person who makes you nervous like this. Jarrett was a kind, and good looking man, and you didn't mind his playful attitude one bit, but he still made you anxious. You wanted him to like you, so you were playing up the parts that made Gilmore 'glorious' and Shaun more of a background character. You'd done this Vax'ildan, you knew that you had. Every interaction you had with him up until a few weeks ago had been mostly bravado and nervous flirting, not wanting to show him your bad side. It was an easy role to play, one that was necessary in keeping your heart well protected. 

Jarrett ran a hand through his short hair, making his black hair stand on its ends against the now falling snow. 

"Alas, I am guilty of this as well," he admits, a cheeky glint to his feature, "but a tease is only a sign of affection when done correctly. Regardless, let us work up an appetite yes?"

You furrow your brow. Were you not heading straight to dinner? You didn't mind exactly, you weren't feeling particularly hungry, and maybe a walk before dinner would give the two of you a chance to get to know each other a bit better, and you could figure out why the Captain of the Pale Guard had taken a sudden interest in you. 

You do not expect Jarrett to pull his crossbow on his back and point it at you. Fear shoots down your spine when his eyes turn from playful to cold, and you don't have time to react before the trigger is pulled.

Swish

The crossbow bolt flies just shy of you cheek, and you feel the wind of the bolt being released as it zooms past you and embed itself into something with a dull thwunk. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and turn to see what had been shot; a training dummy had the bolt deep within its head, the wood splintered from the force of the arrow shot. Jarrett lets out a hearty laugh, his eyes scrunched up in humor.

"You should have seen the look on your face my friend, you looked as if you had seen a ghost!" 

You glare at him which shuts him up for a moment before he starts busting up again, this time with a mock grimace on his face.

"You are starting to look as serious as Percival, his brow is always twisted up in such a way when we are interacting. He does not like my ability to read people, he's told me. Now now, don't be mad Shaun, it is only a bit of fu-"

He's cut off by the lightening bolt bursting from your finger tips, zipping expertly passed him and slamming into one of the hay filled dummy's chest. You watch as the hay explodes into a mess of electricity and flame and you can't hold back the impish look that crosses upon your face. His expression is shocked, eyes wide at the crackle of static energy that surrounds the two of you.

"That was incredible!" He exclaims, slinging his crossbow downward, his face still full of glee at what you had just done.

"It was nothing," you say, feeling a bit bashful, you hadn't expected him to compliment you, "just a simple lightning bolt."

"No, it was amazing, don't try a fight me on this. You have to show me more. Come on, I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" He adds suggestively, loading another bolt into his crossbow. You blush at his suggestion but a smile is on your face at the thought of stretching your arcane muscles after letting your talents atrophy over these past few weeks. You concentrate for a split second you appear thirty feet away from Jarrett, a bit of mist circling your ankles as you appear and disappear. 

"Show me what you've got."

And so, after the next hour, you and Jarrett spend your time shooting off spells and crossbow bolts. At one point you cast Haste on the Pale Guard Captain and he is shooting off four bolts in six second intervals, all hitting a target in lethal and difficultly aimed shots. You can't help being amused when the spell finishes and the man ends up stunned for a few seconds, giving you the opportunity to bully him for a bit before he's brought back to his full mobility. As it turns out, Jarrett is quite ticklish. 

You slide the pad of one finger down his exposed neck and you can feel his tightened muscles jump at the sensation, it thrills you to know end when he tries to squirm away from your mischievous touch. Your victory is short lived, because it isn't long after that Jarrett has wrestled you to the ground, straddling you and pinning your hands above your head.

Well, maybe your good fortune continues after all. 

"Now, what are we going to do?" He inquires, quirking an eyebrow at you.

"I believe you were just surrendering, " you suggest, jutting your chin up to him in defiance, "I clearly have the upper hand."

The look he's giving you, the desire evident in his eyes when his head dips down to meet yours and for a split second, you almost give in to it. Your eyes close, your chin tilts up and you can feel the heat of is breath on your face and it would feel so good to just give in.

But then his face flashes through your mind. The face of a man you love and have loved for a very long time. The face of a man who is with another at this very moment.

And you turn your head away. 

Eyes still closed you can feel the water beginning to gather beneath them, and your struggling more than usual to pull yourself together, and before you can even speak the weight of Jarrett's body is gone and you feel weightless once more. Your eyes flutter open to see Jarrett still next to you, leaning over your face with concern. He looks worried, and you can sense his eyes moving over every inch of you.

"I apologize Shaun," he begins, seemingly ashamed, "I had forgotten you were still healing. I didn't think I was hurting you."

He trails off, his gaze falling onto your stomach. You shake your head; honestly your injury wasn't bothering you in the slightest, and you could tell that Jarrett had paid close attention to where he was putting his weight when he was on top of you.

"You weren't, I'm sorry, I just-" you don't know where to begin. Part of you is far too scared and guarded to express why you were so choked up, you didn't want to scare him away with your drama and heartbreak. "It's complicated."

He nods, relief painting his expression.

"Would you like to talk about it?" He asks, "I'm a really good listener."

You stifle a wet laugh, your eyes still watering with tears. It takes a bit of time before you answer, because you aren't sure how much you want to talk about. But looking into the earnest eyes of someone who honestly wanted to listen? That was an offer you couldn't refuse.

"I suppose you do still owe me dinner."

He grins.

"I suppose I do."

 

The two of you make your way back into the city streets of Whitestone, taking up residence at one of the few pubs in the town itself. A place called the Tipsy Quorum. It was a humble establishment, but gave off a friendly vibe that welcomed each patron as they entered. Jarrett had found you a corner booth, the two of you sitting in silence for a few moments before the barmaid approaches you with a friendly smile on her face. She appeared to be in her mid-forties, a tight bun of dark hair with a few strands framing her slender cheeks. 

"Captain, now what do I owe the pleasure of a man such as yourself coming into this fine place of business? And with company no less?" She gestures to you with a wave of her hand, other hand placed pointedly on her hip. 

"Shauna, it is so good to see you again," he greets, tipping his head to her, "how are the children?"

She sighs, tucking a wayward strand behind her ear.

"They're doing about as well as you'd expect after that bastard walked out on us after all this hullabaloo began, but that is not important, introduce me to this new patron. Wait, on second thought, I'll introduce myself."

She turns to with her hand out, which you eagerly take, already enjoying this woman's company quite a bit.

"Shauna," she states, "it's a pleasure. And you are?"

"Shaun Gilmore." You announce, giving her hand a small shake before letting go, "And might I say the pleasure is entirely mine."

She beams at you, and you share a bit of small talk before she takes your order. She leans in and whispers something into Jarrett's ear, and you can see his eyes go wide before he pushes her away, muttering something under his breath that you can't quite make out. He clears his throat when she leaves, and his gaze falls on you once again.

"Now what was that about?" You inquire, because you are genuinely curious as to what had just transpired between the barmaid and the Captain. He coughs a bit, somehow turning a shade darker than before, and you were really curious now. He hesitates a few moments longer but a little prodding he finally answers.

"She, might have said something along the lines of 'if you don't ravish him, I will' but I made sure to straighten up any possible misunderstandings." 

"Oh. That's good."

He nods, not quite meeting your eyes.

"Shaun, about earlier, maybe tell me a little more? What's bothering you?"

It's clear he doesn't want to talk about what Shauna said anymore, but did he have to change the subject to something that left rocks in the pit of your stomach? Well, two could play at that game.

"Jarrett, where did you grow up in Marquet? It's been a very long time since I've spoken to someone from my home."

"Ank'Harel," He gives you an incredulous look, almost a warning, "but we are not here for small talk Shaun. I find the most satisfying way to deal with hardship is to face it head on, now tell me of your troubles and perhaps I can offer some comfort? What worries you?"

"You mean besides everything?" You deadpan, removing your hair from its tie to readjust the pony tail. 

"Yes," he chuckles, "maybe a bit of the besides?"

You think for a moment, wondering way you would want to go about telling him about your recent heartache. It wasn't that long ago that assassins had infiltrated Whitestone and attempted to kill you and Vax. You still remember how you had found yourself in front of the rogue, along with Vex'ahlia, Percy, Grog, Pike and Keyleth, and had been asked to share one of your most painful memories with all of them. You curse the Rakshasa to plane of the abyss everyday for forcing that memory to the surface.

"Have you ever been in love Jarrett?"

He ponders for a second, resting his chin in his hands as if thinking back for a long while.

"No, I do not believe I have been." he admits, a weary smile playing at the edges of his lips, "Is this what this is about then? Love?"

You nod slowly, waiting for some sort of reaction. He doesn't show any signs of judgement, which you somewhat expected. You had been flirting with the man all night, and a part of you thought he may think less of you, but you sense no shift in emotion, and he still appears thoughtful before you.

"I am assuming this love is not returned?" He clarify's, giving you an inquisitive glance. 

You nod again.

"Unfortunately he has eyes for another. It's alright, really, I'm fine."

Wow, it even sounded like a lie to yourself.

"I see, though I have no experienced it myself, when someone has had their heartbroken, I have found that many a woman lean on my shoulder and cry, I do not see why it would be any different for a man." 

He slides out of his side of the booth and into yours, keeping a polite distance, but his demeanor very welcoming. 

"But first, we shall drink deep into our cups and express our sorrow! Tell me Shaun, what is it that you loved about this man?"

You sigh, not uncomfortable with his proximity, but a part of you did not want to discuss this with anyone, while a huge part of you was screaming at you to spill everything onto him. About this time Shauna returns with two pints of ale, a bottle of scotch with two glasses, and a platter of various meats and baked potatoes. You pick at a turkey leg, eating because despite the topic of conversation, you were hungry.

"He was someone I could confide in, brave, charming, a bit of a prankster if I'm being honest. Though I suspected he was using my feelings at the beginning, it didn't stop me from falling for him. It was later when I truly thought his affection for me was real...I thought it was mutual."

You pause to take a long gulp of your ale, the bitter liquid soothing your sore throat.

 

"It wasn't much long after that that he told me he had fallen for someone else. I was shocked, humiliated, he hurt me terribly in that moment...I was stuck wondering if I was being played the entire time. But when I was hurt, when the dragons almost took me from this world the first face I saw when I awoke was his. I thought that was a sign. It was meant to be."

You could feel the tears starting to stream down your cheeks, and you glance over at Jarrett at the corner of your eye. His expression hadn't changed, he wasn't pitying you, but listening earnestly to what you had to say. 

"I suppose it was after my hallucinatory state due to lack of blood had run it's course that I finally was able to understand that there was no hope. Even now, after assassins used me to try and kill him, I know that there is no chance with Vax'ildan."

It's the first time you say his name aloud in a context like this, and you can't hold back the sob in the back of your throat from bubbling forth from your mouth. It's at this moment when Jarrett wraps his arms around you, and you don't even hesitate to bury your face into his shoulder and cry. You could smell the sweat and cedar from the training ground on his skin, and you take it in, letting him take on all your heartache, as he strokes your hair and rubs soft circles into your back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, that was a longer one. Please tell me what you think! I'm really enjoying it!


	3. I spy with my little eye...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilmore's night out was exactly what he needed, but now feelings are churning up inside him that he does not want to face. Luckily there's always threats to Whitestone to distract him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm absolutely blown away by all the positive reactions I've received from this story so far. I really hope you all continue to enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.

The light of the morning sun peaks just through the curtains, shining directly into your eyes and stirring you from your slumber. The pounding headache pulsing in your temples when consciousness takes you breaks the peaceful atmosphere of your bedroom. You crack open one eye, leftover makeup from the night before crusted to the corners of your eyes sticks around the edges of your vision. 

You must have been far drunker than you thought, if you left your makeup on overnight. 

At a snails pace, you slowly arch your back and push yourself out of your extremely cozy bed. Throw pillows and cushions are strewn across the room, many papers and ink vials placed haphazardly across several end tables and on your desk, and a brutally battered chair sits two legged in the corner of the room. To be fair, a bit of this mess did happen when you were almost killed in your sleep, the man had been quite rude you hadn't exactly been at your best when he attacked. Though, if you were being honest, which you always are, that had been quite a while ago, and maybe a quick clean up was in order. 

Standing up you notice that you are wearing the same clothing from the night before, much more wrinkled, but the same everything. Though you're rings are on the nightstand beside the bed. At least you had the forethought of removing those. You don't remember precisely when you got home, though if you were to guess the moons had been at their apex when you and Jarrett had decided to call it quits. You hope he got home alright last night, though if you recall correctly he didn't seem as plastered as you were. You remember his concerned expression when you told him to head home. You had learned that Jarrett lived much farther out of the way than you, nearer to the castle than the city, and you didn't want him to have to walk a distance to get home when it was so late at night. He wasn't implying you couldn't take care of yourself, but you got the impression he wasn't too keen on leaving you to your own devices. Either way you parted ways and the evening had ended on a high note.

He had listened to you talk about Vax'ildan with reverence, let you cry when you could no longer speak, and let you drink until you were drunk enough to laugh. You admit that after a night like that, despite your unkempt appearance, you were actually feeling better. 

You take some time to get all the leftover liner and shadow from your face and brush your hair out before changing into a far plainer light orange robe with small yellow flowers sewn into the sleeves. After dressing you reapply your makeup into something a bit more natural and tie your hair back in high ponytail. It was casual, more of a stay at home kind of outfit, but you were not in the mood to go all out. Maybe you could go to Pike for a quick restoration spell before you had to trade with Alurra, or maybe we've found another mage to trade off with finally?

"GILMORE!" A female voice shouts, and you can here it all the way from your vantage point upstairs. You sigh into your hands, wishing for a moment that you hadn't drunk as much as you had.

Oh wonderful, Kima's at the door. 

The pounding of her fists are like two battering rams slamming themselves simultaneously against your temples and you're already massaging them when you reach your front door. Kima had not been in Whitestone for very long, and her presence both delighted you and made you curse Bahamut's name secretly under your breath every time there was a shift change. Kima was incredibly protective of Allurra, which meant that whenever it was Allurra's turn with the barrier, Kima was always stressing about her health and worrying that it was putting too much strain on her companions body. Sometimes you had to remind her that your body was also at risk while this barrier was up, but her concern for Allura always made her forget in few moments after she realized her mistake. Regardless, you were happy for Allura, having Kima in her corner no matter what. It was a great gift, being loved like that.

When you open the door you don't expect to be face to face with Jarrett, his smile just as radiant as it was last night. He was in full Pale Guard attire, white painted leathers with dark gray accents under a dark gray cloak, though he still wore the purple scarf you have yet to see him without. Kima is in front of him, glaring up at you with discernible unease behind the anger of her eyes. 

You give Jarrett a small wave, sort of dumbfounded that the two of them were together. He waves back, a look of amusement washing over his chiseled features. 

"Kima," you say, looking down at the halfling expectantly, "I suppose it's my time to take over?"

"Yes," she begins, "but Cassandra wants both you and Allurra at the castle first. Be prepared to switch over there." And before you can say a word she has already turned away from you, heading down the path to Castle Whitestone. 

"What is this about?" You call to her, shutting your door behind you as you step in stride next to Jarrett.

"Not sure, but I'm assuming it has to do with the barrier? Not that I understand any of that arcane stuff."

Jarrett leans into you, brushing shoulders as he whispers into your ear.

"So...how are you?" He nudges you a bit when he says this, lips brushing into your hair just enough that you can feel the pressure of his face near yours. You shudder when he husky voice seeps into your eardrums like molten caramel. 

"I-" you stutter for a second, "I'm fabulous, as always." 

Damn, you think he caught you fumble, but he doesn't mention it as you walk with him. You suspect by the troubled look on his face that he assumes it has to do with your heartbreak, and you certainly cannot tell him that his voice simply made you go weak in the knees for a split second. You don't know why, but just being in proximity to him is making your breath go a little shallow, and it's frankly freaking you out a bit. You've only known him four days. Get it together Shaun!

"I can definitely see that," he winks, "you're looking as dashing as ever Shaun. Do you always do this?" He gestures to his own face, and you get what he's referring to almost immediately, and it takes everything in you not to get defensive. You had faced many challenges when you were just starting out in Tal'Dorei, at the spry age of fifteen and still experimenting with makeup there were many people who treated you like scum. It took a lot of self growth and building yourself up as a respectable business man and sorcerer to get this point, but there was always this nagging urge to snap at people who asked questions about your choice of dress.

"But of course," You say with a flourish of magical sparkles flying from your fingertips, "I am the owner of Gilmore's Glorious Goods! There is no one that holds a candle to my charisma!"

Jarrett laughs, wrapping an arm around you in a quick hug from the side, "This is very true!" He agrees, "I am sorry for asking you such a question when the answer is right in front of my face. I only ask because it reminds me of Ank'Harel. Many people there have looks in similar fashions, though I must say, you wear it much better than any of them."

You feel your face heat up at his words, and you wished that you were better at hiding when things affect you. Luckily it doesn't seem like he's taken notice of your flush, and you thank the Gods you were born with darker skin. 

"Hurry it up!" Kima calls ahead of you, somehow way farther down the path regardless of smaller gait.

It takes a about ten minutes to get up to the castle doors, which are quickly opened by two palace guards who let you into the front entrance. Two more guards lead the three of you into the War room of Castle Whitestone, a room you've already familiarized with since you've been here. Allura and Cassandra are already waiting for you when you enter, and the first thing you notice are the bags underneath Allura's blue eyes. She looks exhausted, but is doing well at hiding it, her hair and posture still impeccable despite her tiredness. Cassandra looks close to the same, though it seems to you that it has more to do with the stress of keeping her city from panicking under the dome of illusion and the constant fear that one day a dragon might actually be at our doorsteps. 

"Lady Allura, Lady Cassandra," you bow, "good morning to the both of you."

They both stand and bow as well, the two women taking their seats once you and your company have also sat down. Kima gives you a long look, and you know that it's inevitable for you to ignore it any longer.

"Lady Allura," you start, already pulling out powdered residuum and coating your palms in the shiny green substance. Allura shakes her head, holding out her hand to stop your efforts, and you pause to let her speak.

"No thank you Shaun," she declines, "we must discuss this now."

Kima glowers at the arcanist, moving her seat closer to Allura and placing a hand on her arm. Allura gives the Paladin's hand a squeeze before turning back to the rest of you. As you return to your seat scraping the residuum from your hands the door opens once again and Pike Trickfoot enters the room. She looks a bit frazzled, her wild white curls falling over her face, no braid or hair styling of any kind. Jarrett, who has been watching you all with curiosity bows his head to Pike in greeting and she gives him a quick smile before taking her seat.

You wonder for a moment what exactly their relationship is. You knew that Jarrett had worked for Vox Machina before the dragons attacked, so perhaps they were friends? You'd have to talk to Pike if you wanted more details about how she felt about Jarrett, but just from a cursory glance they seem at least friendly with each other.

"Good," Cassandra sighs, "we're all here. This is a very serious matter we are discussing here, and I want none of it to leave this room."

You straighten as she speaks, centering yourself against your chair and lifting your chin to meet her gaze. The ruler of Whitestone is a strong, elegant woman, intense and determined, and you had to face her as an equal if she was going to trust you at all. She takes a deep breath before continuing, her face contorting into one of malice.

"There is a spy in Whitestone."

Silence.

Quiet.

Not a sound escapes the mouths of everyone in this room. You sit there a few seconds, stunned, before rage starts to pour out of you like a fog of boiling energy. You aren't the only one feeling this way, you can practically taste the tension in the air as everyone starts speaking at once.

"How dare-"

"You've got to be kidding me-"

"Are you sure-"

"What have we found out so far-"

You're all cut off when Cassandra raises her hand for silence, instantly quieting the room before she continues.

"One of my guard found this in one of the fireplaces in the Castle. It's burnt and written in code, but we were able to decipher the names of both Lady Allura and Gilmore, the rest is too complicated for even our most seasoned scribes. However, that is not all we found, tucked away in a hidden compartment beside the fireplace, drawn out maps of both of your homes."

You suppress a creeping shiver when she says this, pushing your instinctual fear to the side for a moment to let all the information given sink in. A coded message, and maps of both your and Allura's homes. 

"Do you think this is a spy for Thordak?" Pike pipes up, her face serious, "Why would he send a spy for Gilmore or Allura? No offense you guys."

"None taken." The two of you say at the same time.

"I believe this to be the case," Allura declares, suddenly much closer to Kima than before, "If Thordak knew where the opposition is, he would simply send out a battalion to wipe us out. I don't know who this person is working for, if anyone, but I would assume they were not connected to Thordak. The green dragon perhaps? Raishan I believe her name was?"

"Raishan," you confirm, lacing your fingers together and resting your chin on top of them. You can't help but see that Jarrett has also taken a position closer to you, his face hard and serious, "She is a possibility, but why not report straight to Thordak? I think this might be a separate entity, and I think they're after our barrier."

"When was this evidence found?" Jarrett asks, gripping the hilt of his short sword.

"About an hour ago," Cassandra explains, "It is paramount that we keep our wits about us, we cannot simply go running around the Castle guns blazing demanding answers from every person we see. We need to conduct this investigation quietly."

"I agree," Allura says, "and we must act as if nothing is wrong. Letting this spy know we are onto them will only lead to flee, and if they escape the city, there won't be any way of stopping them from letting every dragon on this continent and beyond where Whitestone is and what magic keeps it hidden."

Kima, you can tell, is fuming at the thought of this. She looks ready to go smash skulls and take names but she'll forget to get the names and now there's just a trail of bodies down the hallways of the castle.

"I second this," you smile, "we are far more likely to catch unsuspecting prey than those who know they are being hunted."

Cassandra also gives a nod of agreement.

"Now, all that's left is to inform my brother and the rest-"

"NO!" you shout, far too loudly. 

All eyes snap to you and you can already feel yourself beginning to sweat. 

"I mean...no," you state in a much lighter tone, "Vox Machina already has too much on their minds already. They are currently fighting this very moment to save all of Exandria and then some. We can handle this."

Pike looks torn, glancing at you through her lashes. 

"I don't know Gilmore," giving you a worried glance, "I know them, and they would want to know if something like this was going on. You and Allura are both in danger now and I'm sure they would want to help."

You shake your head. 

"They would, and I'm sure they'd send whomever may be spying on us to their fiery graves but I cannot let them get distracted. You already should be with them, and the only reason you're not is because of me. I would tell them if it would help, but Vox Machina need to be killing dragons, and we need to be protecting Whitestone."

"And yourselves." You hear Jarrett mutter under his breath, and you glance over your shoulder to give him a sly smile. 

"And most definitely ourselves," you add, "I wan't to get killed about as much as I want another dragons claw digging in my spleen, so let me tell you that I truly believe this is the best course of action. We go on like nothing is wrong, and we do not mention any of this to Vox Machina. Are we all in agreement?"

"Yes."


	4. We will be what's left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra and Gilmore discuss the future of Whitestone and Vox Machina, and just as Gilmore thinks Jarrett and he have an understanding everything goes to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been awhile but I was sort of struggling to write this chapter because all I want to write is the juicy bits. Sometimes I feel like I'm being a bit over dramatic but hey, I love it.

You all continue your discussion for a few more hours, vetting all of the options available considering the likelihood of attack. It was decided that both you and Allura would send reports regularly to both the Captains of the Guards and Cassandra that would detail the progress of your day and anything suspect that might occur around you. It wasn't much, in both Kima and Jarrett's opinion but keeping in contact with each other was the best they could do. Luckily the two of you have been visiting the Castle almost daily to help with researching the magical orb underneath the castle. Pike opted to keep out of the loop. She did not think she'd be able to keep this sort of situation a secret from the rest of her party, and wanted to not be brought in on any further discussion until the culprit was caught. You respected her decision but the gnome's guidance would have been helpful in a situation where sensing the ill intentions of those around you was of high demand.

Cassandra was more than willing to supply the two of you with escorts around Whitestone until the spy was apprehended; however the suspicion of suddenly toting around bodyguards would be another reason why this person might flee. The six of you finished your meeting with both the satisfaction of a plan and a growing tension of an additional threat to the city of Whitestone. 

"Gilmore," Cassandra calls just before you exit, "can we speak?"

She has her hands clasped together on the table, her hair tumbling down her shoulders in streaks of white and brown. You pause to give a quick goodbye to your companions, and switch barrier detail with Allura before sitting back beside the ruler of Whitestone. The process of transferring the essence of the spell wasn't taxing per say, it was after you were dealing with arcane weight of an entire city that you felt the drain. Again coating your palms with residuum and Allura doing the same, the two of you write a few arcane runes in the air and presto! You're now in control of an illusory barrier.

Already you're feeling far more haggard, and the strain on Allura's shoulders disappears entirely. Kima and Allura head down the hall to the main entrance way, followed closely by Pike who gives you a small wave before exiting. Jarrett lingers for a moment before giving you a polite bow and a soft smile. He saunters off and down the hall opposite of the main entrance, heading deeper into the castle. 

You don't spare him a second glance before reentering the war room. Cassandra is filling your glass with more tea, the drink far more tepid than suited your taste, but it was painful to attempt magic whilst holding up the barrier so you didn't really mind. Cassandra sat back in her chair while you placed yourself in the seat next to her, your hands cupping the glass between your jeweled hands. She practically sags into her chair, her head lulling back and craning her neck until she was looking upwards. You release you grip on your cup and take her hand in yours. 

When you first arrived at Whitestone, the most shocking thing about it was the tenacity and strength of its leader. She carried herself with pride, generosity and just a hint of bitterness behind her eyes that told you she had seen much despite her young age. The two of you had grown close these past weeks, during your recovery you had often visited her in the study to discuss the state of Whitestone and the research you'd done on the Ziggurat. The two of you learned a lot about each other during those late nights in the libraries and down in the catacombs. She is one of the most capable leaders you have met, and you truly are proud to know her as you do. 

"We will find them," you assure her, "whomever they may be."

She pulls her fingers from your grasps and rests her chin on the palms of her hands. She starts tapping her lip with her middle finger, a habit she exhibits when she's frustrated about something. You've seen her in this position plenty of times already, and it's no shock to you when she does this. Cassandra is a fairly reserved woman, but she has a few ticks that someone could pick up on if they were paying attention. 

"I know, I'm not worried about that."

You blink at her, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Then what is it Cassandra? We have done all that we can in the defense of Whitestone, now we just have to wait for Vox Machina to defeat them-"

"If they defeat them Shaun."

"Stop that," you chastise, "you can't think like that. Have faith in them, in your brother. You know that even if they're a motley band of insane idiots they are also the strongest and most courageous people to ever walk this plane."

"They are people Shaun!" She snaps, glaring at you with fervor, "They are not Gods, they are people! I am not someone who can think optimistically as you do, as Vox Machina does. There are still three ancient chromatic dragons raging about the continent and beyond, one nearly at our very doorstep. I am not faithless, my brother and his friends can do anything that they set their minds to, but I will not think in absolutes. I am up at night praying that Percival returns back to me, but there are no guarantees."

You are taken aback by her outburst, and momentary shame coats your cheeks and sits inside your stomach like stones. Maybe you were putting too much faith on Vox Machina during this time of peril and danger. You had just assumed that they would be taking care of these issues no problem. But Cassandra was wrong on one count, and that was you thought optimistically. Many nights you stayed up in bed, worry twisting in your gut over the fate of your comrades, and each time they returned the relief you felt when you were greeted by Vax or Keyleth at the castle was something you clung to on those days where you were so uncertain. 

You pat Cassandra on the back, your hair falling onto your shoulder and tickling your neck as you reach out to her. She's already composed herself, but it's not too difficult to discern the fear behind her eyes.

"You know as well as I do that we have no choice. I would join them if I could but my duty is here, protecting Whitestone, just as this is your duty."

"Me, protecting Whitestone?" She scoffs, "I've betrayed this city so many times Shaun, I have no right to be considered its protector."

"Don't sell yourself short, these people would be nowhere without you. I am not a man who gives compliments often Cassandra, I believe they are meant to be earned. So believe me when I tell you you're one of the finest. Your past does not define your future."

She relaxes a bit at that, but her guard you can tell is still up. You'd heard stories from Vax'ildan about what had happened to the De Rolos, specifically Cassandra and you knew that she was strong because of her experiences, but also deeply scarred. You could sense all the self-doubt she felt with every decision she made, and if she needed a confidant, you would be there for her. It was as simple as that.

"Now. If Vox Machina cannot defeat the Chroma Conclave we will be all that's left eh? So lets come up with a back up plan. I know you don't believe in guarantees Cassandra but I do. And I guarantee Whitestone will not fall."

**

It's late afternoon before you finish up your talk with Cassandra, and you are more than surprised when the two of you leave and find Jarrett slumped down asleep against the wall. He lets out a sharp snort when the door closes behind the two of you and you stifle a laugh when his eyes shoot open and he's on his feet within a second. Cassandra also chuckles at the guard captains reaction, her posture much more at ease than what it was a at the start of today.

"Captain Howarth are the Castle floors so comfortable that you mistook them for your bed?" She jests, crossing her arms in mock disdain. You see that cocky half grin you've come to know these past few days dance across his lips as he gives Cassandra a bow.

"It is the Whitestone craftsmanship My Lady, your floors are like the clouds in the sky." He stands up straight, and you notice a bit of a wince as he adjusts himself, "Though I must admit, a soft bed would be preferable." 

You can't say you don't feel the same way. You're tired, a lot of magic already being siphoned into the barrier. During your discussion with Cassandra you had mentioned in passing that having another mage to lighten the load of the barrier would be preferable, and it would give more time for yourself and Allura to assist Vox Machina in their troubles. Cassandra told you of a older mage that lived just on the outskirts of the barrier, an older woman who wasn't as powerful as you or Allura, but she is rumored to be well adept at illusion magic. Balua she said the woman's name was. You had asked why she hadn't told you of this woman earlier but it Cassandra said it was easier if you just saw for yourself. 

It concerned you the way she spoke, but she still recommended you go see her and decide for yourself if Balua was someone strong enough to hold up the barrier. You wondered if she was if you could be more useful with the actual battling of dragons. It wasn't something you were particularly keen on doing but you wanted this dragon business sorted as soon as possible and then you were going to take a nice long vacation. 

Maybe you would go home and see your parents. Oh you could bring Jarrett, you're sure he'd love to return back to Marquet and see his home again. If you take the same portal you sent Vox Machina through it was going to be a bit of a tight spot. You can't imagine what it must have been like for the bulk of Vox Machina to end up jammed into a closet. Though you imagine it would be quite amusing for your parents. Oh Gods, you hadn't thought about it before now, but Vox Machina don't have the best reputation when it comes to the elderly. You swear if they did anything uncouth to your parents you would throttle them. Dragons or no dragons they would face the fires of the nine hells by your hand.

"Well," Jarrett begins, "Shaun?"

You snap back into reality with a jolt. Your mind really was not in the right space right now. Jarrett looks at you expectantly, and Cassandra is giving you a curious look. 

"I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head, "what did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted to take a walk with me?" 

"I would be delighted." you answer, your mood already getting better at the thought. His returning smile was amazingly brighter than it was before, and it was a bit unnerving. His face was making your stomach feel more fluttery than you would like to admit and it really needed to stop. You've known the man all of four days and just because he's handsome and kind and comforted you once shouldn't mean your heart needs to be pounding this hard at a smile. 

Regardless after a quick goodbye to Cassandra you and Jarrett begin to make your way through the castle hallways. The decorum of castle Whitestone always seemed so dreary to you when you first arrived: the colors were whites and grays, the stone walls bare with few embellishments and many of the castles furnishings were dare you say, drab. Luckily with Cassandra and many others (including yourself) the castle was becoming a much brighter place. Tapestries adorned the walls, ornamental goblets and suits of armor lining the corridors and thanks to the help of Keyleth and a few others with more ornate natural abilities the palace garden was flourishing.

The two of you had just made it there when you noticed a blanket thrown down in the middle of the garden, splayed out between a few hedges and bushes filled with flowers. You're really not an expert of flowers, but you believe these were white viburnum, the tiny pale petals swaying gently in the slight breeze. 

"Please, take a seat." Jarrett gestures, sitting down on the blanket and pulling out a satchel from his side. You'd noticed it earlier but really didn't pay it any mind before. He pats the blanket urging you to sit down and you really have no reason to refuse him.

"Did you do this earlier?" you ask, sitting cross legged beside him.

"No no, I have many many duties with the Pale Guard. I simply asked one of them to place a blanket in the garden and get a few things from the kitchens."

You raise a brow at him as he tells you this.

"Oh, abusing your authority Captain?"

"What's the point of having authority if not to abuse it?" He grins, pulling out two sandwiches and a water skin. He hands you one, some sort of warm roast beef and melted cheese. It smells amazing and it's only then that you realize you haven't gotten the chance to eat yet. 

"I'll be sure to remember that next time I need to abuse my power." You joke taking a few hearty bights of the sandwich. Oh gods, this is the best. You eagerly devour the rest of you meal and it's probably one of the most satisfying meals you've had in a long while. Jarrett also finishes his sandwich of quickly, and the two of sit in silence for a minute as you chew. He brushes crumbs off his fingers and handing you the water skin.

"It is one of the best perks of being a Captain."

"How goes the Pale Guard then?" you ask, "Would you say they are battle ready?"

"Well, if you think them shaking in their bootstraps at Grog like a bunch of piss poor ants is battle ready," he grunts, swallowing the last of his sandwich, "I am trying very hard not to judge these men. Most are those who have never held a blade, and it unwise to fight a battle you know you cannot win, but their heart and pride in Whitestone is admirable."

"You can't really blame them, only a couple of idiots would face a hoard of dragons fearlessly." You muse, taking a sip from the water skin, "I have faced one, and it was not pretty." You clutch your stomach for and for a moment...you're back there.

Smoke rose all around you, flames licking your heels as you pushed Uriel's family to safety, and the panic of not finding you comrades among the flames. The pieces of Uriel's body that you saw blackened and singed, his children's screams for their father that you wanted nothing more than to block out of your memory. How many times would you wake up to the sounds of their screaming? And how many times would Thordak's phantom claw be digging around inside of you?

You don't realize you're shaking until Jarrett takes your hand in his, he looks at you evenly when you meet his gaze, and you center yourself in the dark shining eyes of the Captain if the Guard. 

"When I was on the streets," he whispers, "in Ank'Harel," he pulls himself closer to you, not breaking eye contact, "I saw many things that I wish I had not. But the first time I truly felt fear was when I protected my sister from a thief. I was thirteen, she was ten. I remember the feel of his blade when he stabbed me in the chest, I can still smell the stench of his breath as he leaned into it, but what I remember most is Anya crying. The cries still haunt me to this day, but what I associate with this now is that my sister is alive and that I am alive."

It's silent for a moment, his expression was a bit a distant, yet intense. You could tell that he was being completely genuine when he spoke, and it was painful for him to do so. You pull him into a hug without thinking and he doesn't hesitate to envelope you entirely.

"Thank you," you breath, "for telling me that."

He sighs, continuing to hold you there, his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder. Neither of you were shaking anymore, but just having him here, in your arms was satisfying enough that you were reluctant to let go. Jarrett is keeping a grip on you as well and you ponder for a second just who would break first before a sly hand slides up your back and onto your neck. You shudder as his hand snakes up you body to cradle your head. Jarrett pulls back from the hug to smile at you, his eyes full of warmth and something else you can't quite place. Though you're sure your own gaze is swimming with something akin to desire. Your hands find a place on his armored shoulders as his other hand rests on your waist.

For a moment, you are completely ready to take this further. You wanted him to kiss you, wanted him to touch you and whisper into your ear and tell you so many things about him. You wanted to know everything about Jarrett Howarth, and you wanted to start getting to know him by pressing your lips to his.

But he pulled back.

He stepped away.

He left.

And you were back to being alone and feeling so unsure.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is a bit short but I hope you all liked it. Thank you for reading. And please tell me what you think!


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